


Under My Skin

by battle_cat



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alien Sex, Anal Sex, Consentacles, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Restraints, Rimming, Scratching, Teasing, Tentacle Sex, Wet Dream, because technically things start when Eddie is asleep, but don't worry we're on our way to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-08-26 11:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16680382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/battle_cat/pseuds/battle_cat
Summary: Five times Eddie got it on with his bodysharing alien goo monster and one time he realized he was in love.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time, he wakes up from a dream. It was a vague, strange dream and the memory of it is already slipping away, but Anne was in it, tangled around him as they rolled through silky black sheets that seemed to go on and on and on.

It’s light out, but it’s a pale grey early morning light that says it’s way earlier than he actually needs to get up. He’s awake enough to realize that he’s hard and he’s been lazily grinding against something underneath him, maybe a wrinkled-up bit of the blanket. And he’s still asleep enough that it takes him a hot second to realize that no, he’s not grinding against anything; something is _stroking_ him inside his shorts and it’s a tentacle.

He freezes. By now he’s used to Venom doing things for him. Righting his balance when he stumbles. Grabbing something across the room as soon as he thinks about it. Alerting him to danger it can sense before he does. But this is…new.

The very tip of the tentacle slithers over the head of his cock and he twitches.

“Ohh-kay, that’s enough of that.” He rolls onto his side, stuffs a hand down his shorts and unwinds the tendril of black goo from where he’s fucking _rock hard,_ goddammit. “What are you doing?”

**MADE THIS APPENDAGE FILL UP WITH BLOOD**

Which is a creepy but technically accurate description of the situation, he supposes. The tentacle winds itself around his hand, sliding between his fingers, silky-smooth and dexterous and _wow stop thinking about the tentacle like that, dude._

**FEELS NIIIIIICE ******

****

The symbiote’s voice is like a purr, if cats could purr at the decibel level of a muscle car engine, and fuck it all to hell, it’s _doing things_ to him. And goddammit, it’s _right._ He thinks, in whatever tiny corner of his mind still hasn’t jumped the shark of rationality, that it should feel wrong, that he should feel _violated,_ getting a hand—tentacle—job from an alien while half-asleep. But he doesn’t feel like that at all. What he feels is really fucking horny. 

****

The rational part of his brain knows he has to stop and set some ground rules right now or he’s going to regret it, but…it’s a struggle. 

****

“Okay. Buddy.” He forces himself to concentrate. “You can’t do that while I’m sleeping.” He’s very aware of the fact that he didn’t just say _You can’t do that._

**WHY NOT**

“It’s, um, it’s a human thing, y’know? Humans don’t like to be touched without asking. You have to, um, give me a chance to say yes or no, and I can’t say yes or no if I’m asleep.” Yeah, he’s just jumped straight to discussing consent with his body-sharing alien, hasn’t he? 

**I TOUCH YOU ALL THE TIME**

**I AM ALWAYS TOUCHING YOU**

**WHY IS THIS DIFFERENT**

He doesn’t think there’s a Dan Savage column that covers this one. 

“I’m talking about, like, touching someone, um…in a sexy way.” Does Venom even know what sexy means? 

**I KNOW**

**I LOOKED AT ANNE’S MEMORIES WHEN I WAS INSIDE HER**

Oh great. 

**I HAVE LOOKED AT YOURS TOO**

Of course it has. 

**THEY MOSTLY MAKE YOU SAD**

And, well, he supposes there’s no denying that. They’re memories of things he doesn’t have anymore. 

**_I_ DO NOT MAKE YOU SAD THOUGH**

“No. No, you don’t.” If anything it’s slightly alarming how comforting he finds it, having someone who’s always there. Not just to chomp a few heads when he gets in a tight spot—although that can come in _really_ handy—but to crack jokes and think snarky comments at during the day and to curl around his shoulders like a very toothy travel pillow when they’re watching Netflix on the couch. 

**EDDIE**

He’s getting better at sensing its feelings, and right now Venom is practically quivering with excitement, curiosity curling out across the bond that connects them, along with something else that he’d swear was…is it _nervous?_

**EDDIE CAN I TOUCH YOU IN A SEXY WAY**

He bursts out laughing, and he feels a little bad because the voice in his head sounds so _earnest,_ but apparently this is the moment the full weirdness of the situation asserts itself.

**WHAT**

**YOU SAID TO ASK SO I ASKED**

**DID I DO IT WRONG**

“No…no. You did it just right.” He feels Venom practically glowing inside him at the approval and…he’s definitely filing that away for later. “Grade A, human-approved.” 

**WELL CAN I**

He thinks, objectively, that he should feel some sort of shame or horror or revulsion about it…right? But…he doesn’t. If he’s honest with himself, well…Venom is already inside him, wound into and around and through him, interpenetrated through his very cells, sharing his body and his mind. Putting up a barrier at _this_ seems arbitrary and absurd. And…if he’s continuing to be honest with himself…he’s a little bit curious. 

“Why the fuck not?” he mutters. “Yeah. Yes.” 

For a second nothing happens. Then a delicate tendril of goo emerges from somewhere near his hip and trails lightly down his back. 

He shivers. He’s not sure what he expected, but it wasn’t that. 

More ribbons of black emerge, hovering over him at an angle he would swear looks curious, but not touching yet. Experimentally, he rolls onto his back. A tendril reaches forward and strokes along the ridge of his collarbone, across his chest and down his stomach. A second one snakes twice around his bicep before reaching up for the lightest brush over his lower lip. A third slithers over the leg of his shorts before winding down around the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. And there’s another, and another… 

It’s nothing like being touched by a human; nothing like anything he’s experienced before. The tentacles are silky and warm and far gentler than he expected, exploring, caressing, unerringly finding spots where he’s sensitive and lingering on them. He can’t really read Venom’s thoughts but he can _feel_ it, and right now he can feel its attention focused on him with an unnerving intensity. 

**YOU ARE FULL OF INTERESTING SENSATIONS EDDIE**

A little huff of nervous laughter escapes him. “Is this, um, doing it for you?” he mutters, just as a thick tentacle snakes around his thigh above the knee and squeezes. 

**YOUR PLEASURE IS OUR PLEASURE**

“Oh. Cool.” It comes out a lot more breathless than he intended. There must be a dozen tentacles sliding over him now, and he’s very aware of how easily his body is responding to it. The pathetic fact of the matter is…it’s been a while. There’d been a couple of drunken hookups, brief and unsatisfying, in the months since Anne, but it had been a long time since someone had touched him like _this._ The fact that this particular someone isn’t human is proving to be way less of a problem than he might’ve expected. 

One of the tentacles fans out into a slippery, oil-black frond, sliding over his chest and ribcage. It’s maybe a little like having a silk sheet dragged over your skin, if the sheet was rippling under its own power and intent on turning you on. 

It’s doing the weird frond thing over more of his body now, and there are other sensations within it, things that prick and spark and tickle like tiny fingers and stick to his skin at the edges of the goo, and it’s really _weird_ and not something you’d think would be sexy but damn if he isn’t as hard as when he first woke up, and when a swath of black slides over his shorts he moans. 

**FEELS GOOD THERE**

He’s not sure if that’s a question or a statement but he croaks out “Yes.” 

The oily black ripples down from his torso and up from his legs to coalesce around his hips. Dozens of tiny tentacles tug at the waistband of his shorts, sliding them down enough that his cock pops out, and it’s fucking wild to watch tiny, delicate strands of black curl around his dick, stroking and exploring there as eagerly as they had the rest of his body. A shiny black coil the width of a finger strokes up the underside of his cock and he makes an embarrassing noise. It wraps around once, twice, and begins a slow, firm slide up and down the shaft of his cock.

****

“Uhhn…fuck,” he mumbles. Another strand is playing with the head of his cock, light enough to be a maddening tease, stroking and circling and brushing the skin right under the head where he’s super sensitive. It’s a little like how he likes to touch himself, when he wants to make it last, alternating between hard pressure and teasing until he can’t stand it anymore. But it’s also _nothing_ like touching himself and it feels really fucking good. 

****

**GOOD EDDIE**

****

Again he can’t quite tell if it’s praising him or asking a question but he whines when the tentacle curled around his dick gives a sudden squeeze. He’s dimly aware of how hard he’s digging his hands into the sheets. 

****

**I CAN DO MORE**

****

“Oh God yes—” It’s out of his mouth before he has time to think too much about it. The tentacles immediately thicken and pulse and spread, one sliding down into a rippling sheet that cups his balls. He watches the other envelope his dick in a hot, tight sleeve, and _fuck_ —it’s like sinking into the tightest pussy or ass you can imagine but no human orifice can pulse and clench and fucking _vibrate_ around him like this— 

****

“Ohhh _fuck_ —” is all he can say, as his hips jerk up into the undulating mass even as it’s squeezing and pumping him desperately close to the edge. He’s just making sounds now; speaking actual words is beyond him, but he tries to direct his thoughts in an organized stream of _yes fuck good so good don’t stop_ — 

****

**OHHH EDDIE**

****

Venom’s voice in his head has gone just a little bit unsteady and fuck—that’s gonna undo him right there— 

****

**YOU**

****

**FEEL**

****

**SO**

****

**_GOOD_**

****

The tentacles that had been loosely wrapped around his limbs suddenly squeeze, tight, and that fucking does it. He comes with an obscenely loud groan, the bit of Venom around his dick squeezing and pumping until he’s thoroughly spent. 

****

All the tension abruptly goes out of the ropes of black goo. It slithers back inside him while he’s trying to catch his breath and not overthink the fact that he just came into an alien Fleshlight.

****

He can feel Venom moving slowly around his body, stroking along his limbs from the inside, until it pools somewhere near his diaphragm, radiating contentment like a heat lamp. Instinctively, he puts a hand on his solar plexus near where it feels like Venom is. A little blob of goo pushes out of his skin and wraps around his hand, the tip of it pooling in his palm. He rubs it idly with his thumb and the heat lamp turns up a notch. 

****

**EDDIE**

****

**THAT WAS NIIIICE**

****

“‘S…good for you?’ he mumbles stupidly. 

****

**YOU ARE FULL OF DELICIOUS CHEMICALS NOW**

****

**SO TASTY**

****

The fact that Venom manages to make this sound…sweet…is maybe a sign of just how weird his life has gotten. But he’ll take it. 

****


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days are busy, and he really, really doesn’t have time to think about the fact that he may be sort of…into…the alien goo monster that shares his body. He absolutely does not have time to think about how letting Venom get him off that one time has apparently opened the door to a whole bunch of new kinks he didn’t know he had, and reopened the door to some he was already pretty aware of. Nope. He has a deadline and he most definitely does not have time to think about this shit.

Which means, of course, that he can’t fucking stop thinking about goo monster sex every five goddamn minutes.

He’s not really sure if it’s Venom doing it, actively rooting around in his fantasies because it’s curious or bored, or if that’s just the way his libido is gonna work from now on. But his brain’s personal alien Pornhub decides to play at some truly unfortunate moments. He’s loading up on family-sized bags of tater tots at the grocery store and suddenly he’s imagining tentacles snaking around his limbs, holding him in place and penetrating every orifice he has. He’s sitting in the gallery at the Board of Supervisors meeting where they’re supposed to be talking about affordable housing but someone’s still droning on about parking permits in the Haight. One minute he’s doodling in his notebook, waiting to get one lousy quote and trying not to fall asleep; the next he is very vividly picturing Venom bending him over the back of the hard wooden bench in front of him and sliding that absurd tongue into his asshole.

**WE COULD DO THAT**

Venom rumbles in his head. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

**WHO WOULD STOP US**

_FUCK’S SAKE NOT HERE,_ he thinks as hard as he can, because Venom has just enough disregard for human decorum that he might actually follow through on that idea.

**WHY NOT**

A slick tentacle slides around his waist under his shirt and grips tightly.

**THEN EVERYONE WOULD SEE THAT YOU ARE MINE**

_Fuck._ He bites the inside of his cheek and balls up his jacket in his lap to hide the hardon he’s developed faster than you can say _exhibitionism._

It really, really doesn’t help that apparently one of the kinks he didn’t know he had is not being able to hide his horny thoughts from Venom.

Concentrating enough to finish the article that evening is a Herculean effort, but finally it’s done; not his finest work but at least it’s finished. On time, even. He celebrates by washing the giant pile of dishes in the sink before it grows something sentient.

**EDDDIIIEEE**

Sure enough, it hasn’t taken more than five goddamn minutes for one, or both, of them to start thinking about the thing.

Tentacles slide around his chest, around his stomach, curling over his bicep and squeezing, and…fuck. He’s already imagining those tentacles pinning him down, holding him in place. It’s so much stronger than him; it could overpower him like it’s nothing, do anything to him that it wanted—

**EDDIE**

A wisp of a tentacle finds the sensitive spot behind his ear and he shivers. The hand not holding the dish sponge is digging into the counter.

**YOU SAID TO ASK**

**BUT IN YOUR HEAD YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE ASKED**

**YOU WANT TO BE TAKEN**

There’s a hand, one of Venom’s enormous hands, and on the last word it squeezes his ass.

“Jesus—” he chokes out, and then symbiote goo is pouring out around him, tentacles under his clothes and on top of them, snaking around his thighs, around his wrists, lacing across his ribcage, all of them squeezing with a possessive intensity that makes his head spin.

With one focused push from the inside he gets shoved against the fridge door behind him, and then the face is there, connected not to a human-looking torso but to a thick blanket of goo that plasters itself across his chest and pins his hands against the cold metal when he reaches for it.

Venom’s enormous tongue laps out from between rows of nightmare teeth and slops across his face. It’s slick and hot and heavy and _disturbingly_ mobile and he makes a very embarrassing noise.

“Oh, _shi_ —” The end of the word is cut off by Venom shoving its tongue into his mouth. He utters a loud _mmmf_ which is not exactly protest but Jesus fuck there is a lot of tongue and it just keeps _going,_ filling his mouth and slithering against his soft palate and he’s pretty sure Venom is doing something to his gag reflex because that tongue slides down his throat with unnerving ease before he even thinks to choke against it; it’s deep enough that the monster teeth are an inch from his face; he’s getting light-headed from it but he’s also un-fucking- _believably_ hard, hard enough that when the black sludge blanket slides down and hugs his crotch he bucks against it, whining as loud as he can around a throatful of tongue.

Venom abruptly withdraws his tongue, making Eddie cough a little on the way out and leaving his chin coated with drool and there’s no way _that_ should be hot but fucking shit—

“V—fucking _Christ_ —” Eddie gasps. His legs are shaking.

**WHAT**

**CLEARLY YOU LIKED THAT**

The goo cupping his dick gives him a little squeeze and he whimpers.

“Yeah…it’s just…it’s a lot. You’re a lot,” he pants. There’s a sudden shiver of uncertainty across their bond. “But in a good way!” he adds quickly. “But just…maybe can we do this on the bed?”

**WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST SAY SO**

Venom is piloting him in the direction of the bed, a tentacle reaching behind them to turn off the water in the sink, to which he dimly thinks _how considerate_. He can sort of…feel it flipping through various memories on the way. Anne tying him to the bed. Anne fucking him with the strap-on. Anne teasing him until he begged. He has a feeling he’s about to be taken for a wild ride and he thinks, logically, that he should be scared but he just feels…

Safe. 

He feels safe. It takes him a moment to identify the feeling. Venom is a giant alien monster who can eat a human head in one bite, and it’s still learning about humans, and everything it does can be kind of _intense,_ but he knows with absolute rock-solid certainty in his bones that it would never, ever intentionally hurt him.

**OF _COURSE_ NOT**

The voice in his head comes with a prickly feeling that suggests it’s offended at the mere possibility.

**I WILL _NEVER_ HURT YOU EDDIE**

His every nerve-ending is flooded with a fierce protectiveness so intense it makes his breath catch, so he’s totally off guard when Venom slyly adds:

**NOT IN A WAY YOU DON’T WANT**

There’s a long, slow drag of what feels like claws down his back, even though there’s nothing there and he’s sure if he looked in the mirror he wouldn’t see a mark. He shudders.

**NOW TAKE OFF THOSE STUPID CLOTHES**

He can’t do it fast enough.

As soon as his boxers hit the floor he feels that same invisible, overwhelming force pushing him down onto the bed, flipping him onto his back and arranging him how it wants him. Venom’s disembodied head floats above him, grinning while its enormous hands pin his arms above his head, and fuck it’s _weird_ but it’s undeniably hot. The symbiote has latched on to what gets him going, all right. 

The substance around his wrists dissolves into tentacles and then the hands are running down his sides, sharp claws pressing in just enough to leave long scratches which heal over as soon as he feels them. He pants and squirms and he outright moans when the clawed fingers dig into the skin of his hips and buttocks; tentacles wrap around his thighs and hold fast and he is completely pinned, naked and trapped and vulnerable and it is _so. fucking. hot._ Venom’s glistening black face dips low and the tongue is back, tracing over his lips, curling around his throat, slithering down for a single, agonizing drag over his swollen cock, a hot slurp over his balls and then the very tip of Venom’s tongue is tracing around his asshole.

“Unnngh _shit,_ ” he moans.

**YOU HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS EDDIE**

The voice still rumbles in his head even when Venom’s mouth is on the outside, busy with other things.

“God, yes—” 

**YOU HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT ME INSIDE YOU LIKE THIS**

An inch of tongue slides into him, gives him a teasing swirl before retreating. He whimpers. “Fuck, yes, keep doing that—”

Venom’s tongue keeps teasing him, stroking and circling and sliding not nearly far enough into him. It’s objectively absurd, getting rimmed by a floating alien head with a footlong tongue and a fuckton of teeth, and he feels a bubble of hysterical laughter rising under his sternum at the same time he’s aware that he is so fucking hard he’s about to bust a nut all over his own stomach—

**NOT YET**

Venom wraps a thin tendril around the base of his cock at the same time it pushes its tongue deep inside him. “Fffuck—” he hisses, straining against the hold on his limbs.

**NOT NEARLY FINISHED WITH YOU EDDIE**

**YOU WANT MORE**

The tongue withdraws and instead there’s a tentacle, smooth and slick and slightly wet-feeling. When it pushes slowly into him it’s no bigger than a finger, but each time it slides out and presses back in it gets bigger, thicker and longer, slowly, steadily stretching him open—

**LOOK AT YOU**

Venom purrs.

**SO GOOD AT TAKING ME INSIDE YOU THIS WAY**

The next thrust hits a spot that makes Eddie see stars and he groans helplessly. “Ohh, fuck, yes, there— _fuck_ —yes—right there, baby, ohh, God, yes—” He’s babbling and he doesn’t care; he throws his head back and arches into it as Venom fucks into him again and again, hitting the exact right spot _every damn time_ —thick ropes of goo wrap around him and hold him tight; there are teeth on his jawbone and temple and claws on his back and a tongue wrapped around his throat—

**OHHH EDDDIIIEEEE**

**YOU SHOULD SEE HOW GOOD YOU LOOK**

And the image of himself through Venom’s eyes suddenly flashes in his mind, the image of his own body stretched out and sweaty and wrapped in glistening tendrils of black goo, his head thrown back and sheathed in impossible swirls of symbiote face, mouth open, wrecked and moaning, cock twitching every time the sleek black tentacle pumps into his ass—

It’s so unbelievably filthy and it’s accompanied by such an overwhelming wave of terrifying head-chomping possessive adoration that he feels like his brain is short-circuiting; he can’t think; his entire consciousness is just filled with Venom chanting **_EDDIE EDDIE EDDIE MINE MINE MINE_** —

The tentacle around the base of his dick abruptly releases its grip and ripples into a sheath of black goo that envelopes him and pulses once, and that’s it, he’s done. He comes white-out hard with a tremendous groan.

He doesn’t know how long it takes his brain to come back online after that. But when he can process…anything…again he becomes aware that he’s still lying on his back, the symbiote puddled over him in lazy ropes and pools of goo, which is pretty much how he feels too.

_Fuck,_ he thinks. He’s completely ruined for anything else now, isn’t he?

**EDDIE**

There’s no head, just a tongue flicking lazily out of the goo to stroke along his jawline.

**WE SHOULD DO THAT ALL THE TIME**


	3. Chapter 3

He’s sitting on the couch. Naked, which seems to be how he ends up more and more frequently. There’s some nature documentary playing on Netflix, but he’s long since stopped following it, because in the middle of a bit about snakes Venom had started wrapping python-sized ropes of goo around his arms, pinning them in place behind his back.

There maybe was a bit about jaguars, too. He’s sort of lost track. Because currently Venom’s enormous clawed hands are scoring scratches into his thighs.

It’s not like it even _needs_ hands, or the ridiculously-muscled human-looking arms it’s manifested to attach them to, the arms that currently disappear gooily somewhere into his back. But…Eddie has thought about those hands. When he’s making a fist the size of his human head. When he’s crushing a car door like an empty beer can. When he feels the claws— _his_ claws, _their_ claws—sink terrifyingly easily into live flesh. It’s another part of Venom he’s terrible at not thinking about. Which means Venom has definitely felt (heard?) him thinking about it.

The sharp talons drag slowly across his skin, leaving needle-thin trails of blood that heal over perfectly as he watches. He shudders.

**YOU LIKE THIS**

Clawed fingers dig into his chest until a trickle of blood blooms.

“Hnnn… You got that, huh?” His dick is achingly hard, heavy and swollen between his spread thighs where Venom has pulled his legs apart.

**YOUR UH**

**NEUROCHEMICALS**

**SAY YES**

When had Venom learned innuendo? Goddammit. He’s never gonna hear the end of it now.

**BUT WHY**

Both hands scratch up his sides, sudden and _hard,_ and he can’t help the guttural noise that comes out of him. He arches up off the couch, squirming under the good-bad sting of it. A tentacle immediately snakes out around his waist and pulls him firmly back in place, _fuck._

Venom’s hands are tracing lightly across his chest and stomach now, enough to tingle but not enough to make him bleed (but they _could,_ they could sink right in and rip his guts out; he’s seen it; he’s _felt_ them do it together, and he’s completely bound and helpless here at the mercy of an alien that can eat a human head in one bite and _why is that so fucking hot_ —)

**WHY IS SOME PAIN GOOD AND OTHER PAIN BAD**

He chokes out a laugh. “We—hnnh—gettin’ philosophical now?”

Venom’s head materializes on its strands of ropey goo. Its tongue slops hot and wet across his face, and then it curls around his throat—all the way around _fuck_ —and then Venom’s enormous razor-sharp teeth are _right there,_ the very lightest scratch against his collarbone and his throat and his fucking _face,_ and the clench of terror-lust deep in his belly is so sudden and intense it’s almost painful—

“ _Jesus,_ ” he pants when Venom withdraws its face all at once. It watches him, eyes narrowed and floating head tilted slightly, a strikingly human-like gesture.

**SOME FEAR GOOD**

**SOME FEAR BAD**

**SOME**

**UNDEFINED**

**WHY**

By some unknown machinations of his endocrine system, he hasn’t come yet—

**THAT IS ME**

**I AM DOING THAT**

Figures.

—which means he’s still uncomfortably hard. But he can’t move his hands and Venom seems to be in absolutely no hurry to relieve him.

“Jesus, fuck, I dunno. Humans are…just weird like that, man.”

**YOU ARE VERY STRANGE**

Venom licks down his face again, along the line of his jaw and over his lips, a teasing inch of tongue pushing into his mouth before retreating.

**BUT I WANT TO UNDERSTAND YOU**

It’s unexpectedly disarming, the sudden wave of earnest, caring curiosity about this particular weirdness of being human, something he barely understands about himself. He is also pretty sure Venom is not going to let him come until he makes an attempt at explanation.

**YOU ARE CORRECT**

And as Venom says it, one of its enormous hands wraps around his dick, completely engulfing it in the weird, slick-firm-warm texture of Venom’s biomass.

The giant hand gives him one agonizingly slow stroke up and down and his eyes roll back in his head.

“Shhhhit—”

**GO ON EDDIE**

**ENLIGHTEN ME**

“ _Fuck._ ” Venom’s hand pumps him with excruciating slowness, and he would have come all over his lap long ago under normal human conditions, but being kept perpetually on the edge like this is better and also so, so much worse.

“Fucking…I dunno…” he tries. “It’s like— _uhhn_ —I know you wouldn’t really, seriously hurt me—but you could—if you wanted to— _ohh_ —cause you’re really strong and you’re a head-chomping intergalactic predator and stuff—and I’m trusting that you won’t—but I couldn’t actually, physically stop you— _guh-uh_ —and I’m not in control but _you_ are— _shit_ —and that’s different from someone like, _really_ trying to hurt me when I’m not in control and I can’t stop them—that’s—that’s when it’s not sexy, it’s scary— _nggh_ —and I’m not scared of you in that way now but y’know, there was that whole thing where you came here to eat my entire species so there’s always a little— _nff_ —something—in the back of my head—that I’m kind of just relying on the fact that you _like me—OHHHH—_ ”

Whatever gonadal mechanism Venom was holding onto releases all at once, and Eddie comes loud and hard, hips twitching up into the giant hand that’s jerking him off, wringing every last drop from him until he’s boneless and exhausted.

He flops sideways on the couch, sweaty and panting. The assorted tentacles and hands around him melt into an undifferentiated blob that radiates contentment like a heated blanket. Venom drips and slides around him until it’s covering him in a silky full-body hug. It feels amazing.

**i do like you**

Venom says after a moment, slightly slurred and at half its normal volume. Tiny finger-like tentacles reach up and comb through his hair.

**even if you are a weirdo**

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [fuckyeahisawthat](http://fuckyeahisawthat.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


End file.
